Resistance is Futile
by Prrowcat
Summary: DracoXOC. Told from Kittel OC POV. Malfoy, her enemy is quite persistent, as his bullying turns to something more passionate. Kissing. NOSMUT
1. Enemies

**AN: Hey, this is the refurbished version of this story. I decided it was time to give it the chapters that it probably deserves. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own. **

**Hopes you enjoy ^.^**

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Potions class. Boring. I hated having to sit through this dismal class. It wasn't as bad as Charms. Where I had to "pretend" to use a wand, and mutter my real spells under my breath. Dumbledore said it would stop people questioning me. I hated attention. I took a brief look around the class, seeking out my best friend, when I noticed a pair of cold eyes glaring at me. Spinning around to face him, as it undoubtedly was, I shot him the filthiest death glare I could muster, before moving to my cauldron. I was proud of my death glares. I was good at them. You could even say I was great at them. And with "That Slytherin" constantly aiming glares at my head, I was well practiced.

Professor Snape droned on in the background, pointing out certain ingredients. I knew that as soon as he sat and let us work, he would read the minds of the students. Find out whether they actually knew what they were doing. I can tell. I've always been different. It's quite annoying actually, being able to sense the minds around me, knowing peoples basic intent. Only basic though. And of course knowing a language that allowed me to do spells, yet no one else could speak, or understand.

I let my partner take the lead, helping where necessary, but I didn't need potions. It was just a way to pass the time. Either potions, or death from boredom. I chose potions. My mistake.

The class was a buzz of minds. It was extremely distracting. Being able to sense minds was only good if there was only one mind within 3 meters. Stupid class. And stupid Malfoy. I could feel his glare on the back of my neck, and it took all my willpower to stop myself from hurtling a curse at him. The less attention on me the better, and throwing hexes at people was sure to put me in the limelight.

Class over I grabbed my bag, swung it on my shoulder, and marched out of the room with my best friend, Mhera. Apart from the teachers, she was the only one who knew about my talents. I was pretty sure that she was the only one who would even accept me knowing the truth.

Ugh. He was following me. Could this get any worse? Mhera soon caught on, as I took an unconventional route. This happened on a regular basis. Couldn't he just leave me alone? As he continued to follow, I lost my patience. Spinning around unexpectedly, I stood, hands on hips, glaring coldly at him. Mhera placed a hand on my arm. Warning me not to lose my temper. Which I lost quite frequently.

Malfoy's party slowed to a standstill in front of us. All three, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy had their wands out by their sides. I saw him smirk when he noticed that while Mhera had her wand out, I hadn't. "What do you want Malfoy?" I said acidly. He strode up to me, still smirking. His smirk faltered for the briefest second, when I didn't back down. I was aware of Crabbe and Goyle moving around, their wands pointing at Mhera. I hoped she had noticed.

With only four people in the vicinity, their minds where slightly clearer. As Draco moved closer my alarm was replaced by puzzlement. His mind wasn't angry, or aggressive. He wanted something. His smirk grew as he read my expression, which I immediately controlled. His face was so close, and I had unconsciously been taking steps backwards. Another step and my back was against the wall. My eyes flicked to Mhera, who had no chance of helping me.

Trying to keep my voice in check, I stated, "You didn't answer my question." I was very pleased that I had managed to keep my voice steady, and with an appropriate amount of venom in it. For a fleeting moment, he leaned in, almost intimately, and my brain went into overdrive. 'He's going to kiss you!' it screamed at me. My panic was clearly evident on my face, as his face came closer, until he whispered in my ear, "Who says I wanted anything, Kittel?" He moved away quickly, and disappointment flooded in, which I was barely able to stop from showing on my face. My inner voice of reason corrected me on this 'you're disappointed you didn't get a chance to hex him. That's all". I hated lying to myself. He moved away from me, and I went to Mhera's side. She hated this. This enmity. I felt cruel for keeping her as a friend.

I patted her shoulder, and asked her if she was ok. She said she was. I couldn't help noticing that Malfoy slipped something into my pack. I didn't tell Mhera this. She had enough to worry about. She was with me to a point. I couldn't stretch her friendship too far.

Moving to my pack, I took the first thing at the top. A piece of parchment. I slipped it into my pocket, as we made our way to the great hall. Once there and seated at the Ravenclaw table, I pulled it out and read it under the table. It read "Meet me tomorrow, eleven o'clock, third floor girls bathroom. Come Alone. M."


	2. Unflooded

The next day my mind was made up. I would go. Alone. I couldn't involve Mhera. She was my friend, but this was not her battle. I hated decisions. If I didn't make up my mind, I would be plagued with the options until I had. I checked the time. 10:55. I quickly asked to go to the bathroom. Making my way to the bathroom, I checked the minds inside. Two. Malfoy and someone else. I hoped it was Moaning Myrtle. I entered, marveling at the dry floor. Myrtle was in a bad mood. She was only happy when she was crying.

I knew it was a trap. I knew it, but I decided to play along. He was behind the door, and I knew he expected me to walk into the middle of the room, with him sealing off the exit. That much was obvious. But his intentions were confusing. He seemed confused and certain about something. My curiosity got the better of me, so I walked into his trap. But my pride got the better of me, "So I hear you're into hiding behind doors in disused girls bathrooms Malfoy." I didn't need to see his face to know I had surprised him. "Moaning Myrtle," I called. She was listening. There was no way that she wouldn't be listening. "Moaning Myrtle, I would really like it if you wouldn't eavesdrop on this. I'm sure that it wouldn't interest you in the slightest."

I turned to face the doorway, aware that Myrtle hadn't stopped listening. It was worth a try. I pushed it out of my mind. "So what did you want?" I asked, with a serious sense of déjà vu. And, continuing with this, he moved closer, as I stepped backwards. "Malfoy? I asked. His answer was another step closer, while I moved back. His steps however were larger, and the distance had closed a little. He continued moving closer, and I tried to keep the distance the same, while studying his face, until my back met with the frame of a cubicle. His expression had none of the coldness towards me, but a little smirk. "Malfoy?" I asked, shocked to hear my fear leak into my voice. I silently cursed my self-control. Of all the times to abandon me.

He was two meters away now, and I heard part of my brain willing him closer, with the other part telling me to run. Or to hit him. Or both. One meter. And my reaction is deer in the headlights. I'm frozen. I could barely breath, trying to speak. Trying to speak with out the temptation of leaning forward. Leaning to his lips… I mentally chide myself, forcing myself to ask one last time, "Malfoy?" in a small scared voice. He sighs, "I wish you wouldn't call me that." Then he comes closer, leaning in. Brushing his lips against mine. Closer still. I'm in a Malfoy/toilet-cubicle-frame sandwich. His lips move against mine, and I respond, with the reasonable part of my brain screaming at me to stop.

I move my hands, up the front of his shirt, feeling the muscles that hours of quidditch training had given him, and I can feel him smirk against my lips. Until I shove him off, with as much power as I have. I only budge him the slightest amount. I grab the hair on the back of his neck, and try to wrench him off me. And he obviously mistakes this for passion. Or he is just being a jerk. I suspect the latter. And my suspicions are proven correct, as he takes my hands, and holds them in his above my head. If only I could speak. I pull my head to the side, and his kisses go to my throat. I could barely resist him before, and this is so much worse. But better. No definitely worse. I manage to speak three words in the magic I use. Get Off Me. They sound english to me, but to others it sounds like I'm speaking German in fast-forward. Or that's how Mhera puts it.

My words work. And I obviously put too much energy into it, as Malfoy gets thrown across the room. I am relieved when he gets up. For two reasons. One is that a completely idiotic part of me liked that. And the other because it means that I haven't damaged him already, so there's something left to exact revenge on. Then I sense his mind. Oh Shit. He knows. Well not know, but suspects. And that's almost as bad. We stand. Staring. Waiting. I begin to worry if anyone has noticed our absence. Teachers know that I'm allowed to go missing sometimes. But I was pretty sure that Malfoy wasn't allowed that kind of leniency.

As he stared at me, I sensed his mind again. There it was, the confusion. Mixed with suspicion. And with something else. Hunger. My brain whirled, trying to make sense of this. Not trusting myself completely, I moved to the door, saying as I exited, "I expect that we are missed in our classes. I trust that this won't be mentioned again," a sense of formality entering my voice. The tables had turned. He had me. And I hoped, against all sense that he would not use his suspicions against me.

The rest of class passed fairly normally, except for the puzzled, yet knowing look from Mhera, at my disheveled appearance. I explained through notes, what had happened, omitting a few details (the kissing) and replacing it (being attacked). This affected her too, so I let her know that he knew something was up with me. Her frightened stare was enough to tell me that she didn't like this. And neither did part of me.


	3. of Dreams and Quiddich

Lunch in the great hall. I barely touched my food, staring at it to avoid looking at "that Slytherin". Something that I failed at miserably. He was staring at me when I looked up, and I could tell that I looked shaken. At least to the people who knew me. His eyes swept over me, from my shaky death glare (which was still quite good, even when shaky) to my ruffled hair, to my lips. His smirk was triumphant. And almost to the point of gloating. And there I was, frozen underneath his gaze. Mhera caught my look, and broke it. I was so thankful for her being there.

After dinner, I never left Mhera's side. Scared of being caught alone by him. With other people around I was sure he wouldn't be so forceful. I wasn't sure if they would deter him completely, but make him hesitate long enough for me to get away. And I was pretty sure that the small part of my brain that wanted him to find me couldn't overpower me with other people watching. Of that I was certain. Surprisingly enough, we made it to the dormitory without incident, and I let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding. Once in bed, I was unable to sleep however. Even when it was obvious that everyone else was asleep. I lay awake, dozing, but not sleeping.

I was in a bathroom. I didn't know why I was there. There was a boy with me. I could feel his hard muscles against my fingertips. I move my hands up to his face, a face I recognize as Draco Malfoy's. But I don't feel repulsed by him. Just entranced. The pale skin of his cheeks is cool against my hand, and I reach up to run my hand through his blonde hair, as he leans down, his mouth closing in on mine…

I wake up with a start. Just a dream. Just a dream. A dream about me and Malfoy. No a nightmare. No other explanation. Mhera is already up. Stupid early riser. And she noticed my panicked expression. Coming to sit on my bed, she offers for me to talk about it. I decline. It was just a nightmare. A dangerously good nightmare. I thought a good night's sleep would help my resolve. But all it did was destroy it more. I leave, claiming the need for a shower. Which I do need. Desperately. I move into the showers, checking for anyone else. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but after yesterday's episode in the bathroom, and my dream, I wasn't taking any chances.

Cleaned and refreshed was exactly what I needed. That and Malfoy dropping off a cliff. But I would have to make do with what I had. The next couple of days Mhera went with me everywhere. It seemed that everything was back to normal. Nearly. I kept having dreams. And I was beginning to like them, to my horror. And then the first quidditch game of the year came looming up in the calendar. Normally this wouldn't send a wave of panic through my body, but this game was between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Which meant Malfoy would be in the crowd. With me. And I was betting that being separated from people in a crowd was far too easy.

Against my better judgment, I decided to attend the quidditch match. I wouldn't run from him my whole life. And I was fairly confident that my resolve was strong enough to resist whatever Malfoy had planned for me. I hoped. Both Mhera and I wore blue to the match. Neutral. It didn't matter to me who won the match, as long as the match was exciting. Which it turned out to be. For all the wrong reasons.

Now I remembered why I hated crowds so much. Sure, I could navigate them quite well, but the masses of people only gave me a headache. All the jumbles of emotions being pressed into my head, it felt like someone had compacted my brain into a tiny box, and had flattened said box with a hammer. Caught up in the excitement, Mhera smiled and bounced about. I tried to look enthusiastic, and it fooled her. My self-control must have been good, to be able to fool her. Entering the gate, I felt someone immediately behind me. I told myself not to be silly. I was in a crowd after all, there was bound to be people close to me. I forced myself to continue looking forward. Then someone behind me put their gloved hand over my mouth, and dragged me quickly under the stands. Where no one could see us.

Of course it was him. Who else would it be. And, once again, he had blocked my escape route. As soon as he had removed his hand from over my face I glared accusingly at him. Why was he doing this. I obviously didn't reciprocate his feelings. As soon as I thought this I was immediately contradicted by that annoying thing called a conscience, 'are you sure you don't? You did kiss him back…' This just made me angrier. I waited for him to say something. I cursed my headache, and knew that if I tried to sense anyone it would worsen. I was already blocking it out, and it was throbbing. "Why do you treat me as your enemy?" he asked.

I was shocked. "Because, people who aren't your enemy don't attack you, or drag you underneath stands where no one can see or hear them." Acid dripped icily from my voice. Despite my headache, I was still under my own control. Malfoy began speaking, when I decided to sense his mind. "I, well…KITTEL!" I was aware that he screamed my name, as I collapsed to the floor in pain, as the emotions of the crowd filled my brain, blacking out my vision. I barely stayed conscious enough to block them out. Breathing heavily, trying to steady my racing heart, I was aware of someone by my side. He was talking, and then, as my vision returned slightly, I realized he was in front of me. I knew who he was. Enemy. But I didn't care. I tried to stand, with him supporting my weight. A buzzing in my ear told me that he was talking to me. I spoke, as loudly as I could manage, which was no louder than a whisper, "get me away from the crowds," And then the world went black.


	4. Secrets out

My mind felt airy. Weightless. I didn't worry over this. Nothing went through my head. Then slowly shreds of consciousness started returning. Quidditch, stands, Malfoy, then… I struggled to remember, as it trickled back. Noises. I heard voices. "Silly girl obviously wasn't thinking…" Where did that fit in with my memory? No, It didn't. I must be waking up. I didn't struggle, but let myself drift back into the world.

I opened my eyes slowly. Fuzzy. That can't be right. They slowly adjusted. I made out a figure, with a long white beard standing at the end of my bed. Finally my vision cleared, and revealed it to be Dumbledore. I smiled, and winced. Shouldn't have tried that. I made a mental note to keep my head still. "I'm so sorry," I couldn't stop the words blurting out, along with the tears that streamed down my cheeks. Part of me refrained from talking about Malfoy. That wasn't his business. But I couldn't stop myself for apologizing over and over for being so stupid as to try to sense someone. What made me pause was his question about who had seen the episode apart from Malfoy. I said no one, and asked about how he knew that Malfoy knew. He made some chuckling remark about me not being able to carry myself to the infirmary. Then he had to inform Malfoy on the events.

Not being able to carry myself. I seethed after Dumbledore had left. So Malfoy carried me. Malfoy had had his hands on me. Part of me hated that. The other part was disappointed that I wasn't awake for that part. I told that part of my brain to shut up. And Dumbledore had explained my "condition" to Malfoy. Only the parts he had needed to know, but still that was far too much.

Mhera came in to visit me then. I was quite despondent while she talked. Before she left though, she did say, "I can only put up with this craziness for only so long Kittel. I hope you understand that." That part I heard loud and clear. I had always known this was coming. The day I would push her too far.

The next day I felt perfect again, and was free to go. I marveled at the fact that Malfoy had not attempted to visit me. Hopefully he was scared stiff of me, and never wanted to see me again. I had to silence the part of my brain that didn't want this to happen.

At breakfast though, there was a letter for me. From Malfoy. I quickly read it, making sure no one else could. This one read: "meet me outside the astronomy tower at 10 o clock, we need to talk. Come alone. D". A serious sense of déjà vu came over me, which brought on a wave of panic. I quickly hid this panic. I knew I had to go. There was no point in agonizing over it. I would just have to be mentally prepared for what new means he had of attacking me.


	5. Astronomy

Ten o clock. Exact timing. I didn't like this meeting place. The narrow corridor had only one entrance and exit. Perfect ambush. And once again, I knew the trap and purposefully walked into it. "Don't you ever get tired of ambushing me?" I asked icily. To my surprise he chuckled, as if my coldness was amusing. I slowly sensed his mind. I'd been cautious ever since the quidditch match. There it was. The same emotions. Yet different. Less confusion. More certainty. And there was that hunger. "You said you wanted to talk?" I asked. More cautious then ever. The last thing I wanted, I told myself, was to be in the same situation as last time, with a part of my brain rebutting this obstinately.

"That I did," was Malfoy's answer. How annoying. I hated mind games like this. "Dumbledore already told me what you can do, so I can imagine that you know what I am feeling." My puzzled expression made that annoying smirk appear. "I can't believe that you haven't figured it out, especially when it so clearly matches your emotions, I don't have to be a mind reader to know that" he added, when the expression on my face turned to surprise. And then it clicked. He thinks I like him back. 'And you do', said that annoying part of my brain. Shut up! I mentally screamed at it.

"I think you are more confused than I thought, or have I not made this clear, I do not like you Malfoy." The venom dripped from my voice quite convincingly. Or so I thought. He seemed to not believe me. Stupid delusional boy. This whole conversation had moved us, from 5 meters apart, to 1 meter unconsciously on my part. Deliberately on his, I was sure. Then he said that one line that haunted my dreams, "I wish you wouldn't call me that," and with that said he grabbed my arms and kissed me.

His mouth, sweetly tugging against mine fulfilled the part of my brain that was all for thwarting my efforts. His heady scent filled my nose, as he pushed me against the wall of the narrow corridor. My mouth moved of its own accord, against all my reasoning. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel his muscles under his shirt. My arms were still held firmly, and I was thankful that this meant that his hands were kept busy. But it meant that I couldn't pull him off me. And no matter how I twisted my head I couldn't separate his mouth from mine. In fact, he relished this fact by moving his head in sync with mine, all the tiny nagging part of my brain, which had seemed to have swollen, urged me to give in.

No way was I doing that. I was quite triumphant when his grip loosened on my arms, as he shifted his body weight. My joy was diminished when I still couldn't loosen my arms. Then I realized he had shifted to my advantage. I let a little smile play on my lips, which he misinterpreted completely. Arching my back, thus pushing against him, gave me enough room for a well-aimed knee to the baby-maker.

His grip loosened on me immediately, as he pulled away, and doubled over in pain, tears leaking from his eyes, as I ran down the narrow corridor away from him, and back into the real world.

This was craziness. He was craziness. To think that he thought that I liked him. Running down the hall, I hoped to get back to the ravenclaw common room. Preferably before he recovered enough to catch me. I hoped for about a minute head start at the least. Maybe 2. I had hit him pretty hard after all. That should cause some hesitation next time he thought about entering my personal bubble.

Running footsteps alerted my attention. Sensing the mind of my follower, I recognized his mind, after all I had been sensing his mind quite often, and had become rather attuned to it. Putting on a burst of speed, I quickly mumbled a spell to slow him down, "Do not let my pursuer catch me in the race to my common room, " were my words. I had to watch my phrasing carefully, otherwise a different thing might happen. Slowly the steps lagged behind, and I reached the safety of the common room.

I stumbled in, trying to catch my breath. Slumping in one of the cozy blue armchairs, my mind whirled in many directions. Confusion being the main one. I was alone. Obviously everyone was still in class. And alone wasn't what I wanted. The ghost of his lips was on me, and I could still feel the imprint of his body on mine, as if he was still there. And there was the aftertaste in my mouth. Repulsed by myself for actually liking this taste I went and brushed my teeth three times. Trying to distract myself, I practiced my magic. Not the pretend magic I used in class. But my distinct magic. The concentration did good to clear my mind. After a while I checked the time. 12. Lunch. While I would not be missed in class, I would surely be missed at lunch.


	6. Gossip

The great hall was brimming with people. I was careful to block my mind to others. It felt like I had blocked ears. I hated the sensation. Sitting down next to Mhera, she sent me a puzzled glance. While we had distanced ourselves, she still wanted to know what was going on. Just not being involved. I lied and told her nothing. She would gain nothing from this. Behind me, I felt two pairs of eyes bore into the back of my head. And heard some whispering accompanied by giggles. I silently cursed the school, and its apparent need for gossip. And no doubt I would be confronted about it, I realized, as the two gossipers made their way over.

"So is it true, you and Malfoy are a couple?" Said the voices, belonging to Lavender and Pavati. Shocked, I sucked in a breath, managing to start choking on the food I was eating. Eyes watering, my coughing fit lasted a good minute. When I had stopped long enough to sip some water, and regain the oxygen in my lungs, I noticed that the whole hall had fallen silent. Putting on a sweet expression I asked innocently, "And who told you that little bit of gossip?" Stunned that I hadn't glared at them it took them a second to reply, "Oh a Very reliable source. I heard that you two were seen together in the astronomy tower," she said with a taunting smile. Smiling sweetly I answered, "Then it is clear that your source is quite deluded. I would rather die than kiss Malfoy," I said with conviction. And with that, by now very familiar voice telling me that I was lying. With this said, I walked out of the room, with every eye trained on the back of my head.

A few corridors away I ran straight into the person I never wanted to see again. Except that I did want to. His hands immediately grabbed my arms, and I was pleased to see, kept me a safe distance from his body. Despite my protests, he half dragged me into a nearby empty classroom. I cursed my luck. While near the great hall, we where too far away for anyone to hear me if I screamed. Déjà vu taunted me, as I recognized that once again I was trapped.

Being my stubborn self, I refused to move further, not wanting my back to another wall. Seriously, when was this craziness going to stop? Surprisingly he released my arms, and I took a step away from him. And I came up against a desk. If not a wall, why not a desk, I thought angrily. Malfoy stood there, watching me search for a way out, with that way too familiar smirk playing on his lips. He had all the exits covered. "Seriously, Malfoy, when are you going to learn that I am not interested?" I stated, folding my arms angrily across my chest, and slowly sliding away from the desk. I really hated sandwiches, especially when I was in one. His smirk grew wider as he saw my actions for what they were. I couldn't escape him.

"And when are you going to learn that you do indeed like me?" he asked back. His confidence in the matter was extremely annoying. "Never." His smirk grew wider, as he moved in for the kill. "I like that about you, you never give in, unless I can help it," he said. His words scared me, as I backed away to find myself cornered once again. This repetitiveness was getting annoying. He closed the gap between us in three easy strides, as he leaned in to kiss me.

As his lips touched mine, part of me, the crazy part, jumped for joy. The other part hissed in disapproval, which increased as I realized that his legs were positioned inside mine, not allowing for any kicks to his groin. It peeved me to know that he was learning ways to thwart me. He had left my hands free this time, which allowed his hands to make a nuisance of themselves. I struggled against him, in an effort to get him off me. Every resistance I gave seemed to make him more enthusiastic. His hard muscles pressed against me, and I felt a certain hardness in his pants. This infuriated me. How dare he. Taking pleasure out of my resistance. Then I had an idea. I hated giving up, but in this case it was necessary.

I gave up. That's not saying I gave in. Using every ounce of self-control that I had, I forced my arms to go limp at my sides, and my mouth to go slack. I could not stop my fists from balling up, but I was fairly certain that this would work. If it didn't I had no other option. I stood there, and waited for him to give up. His lips left my mouth, and he kissed along my jaw, and I could feel his satisfaction as my body went rigid. I was about to mouth the words that would get him off, when his mouth found my earlobe.

I couldn't concentrate. And he was revelling in it. I very nearly gave in then and there. He seemed to be everywhere, and it took all my effort to stop from responding. It was all I could do. And part of me hated myself for being so stubborn. With a sigh he stepped away. He was disappointed. I smirked. I knew that an "I told you so," would be extremely childish. But it seemed to fit. Except for my torn conscience was contradicting that thought. I glared at him, before walking right past him. I didn't trust myself to speak, as I could still hear his breathing in my ear. Walking back to the common room, I was greeted by Mhera in the doorway. She looked upset by my appearance.

"I can't leave you for one minute without you finding trouble," she stated when I was in earshot. Seeing my puzzled expression she quickly added, "you should fix up your shirt before anyone else sees you." Looking down, I saw that my three top buttons were undone. I hurriedly did them up, cursing Malfoy silently. Stupid sneaky good-for-nothing evil son-of-a-bitch. I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed that. I asked her sheepishly, "would you believe me that I was completely against it?" she shook her head, stating that she didn't want to know.


	7. Flying

That night I tossed and turned. Malfoy. He was here, in my dreams. I felt his lips against mine, the feel of his body, his hands over my body. And in the dream I liked it. It was as if my conscience was nagging me over what could happen if I gave in. And it was presented as if it was a good thing. My dream Malfoy pulled away, to reach the buttons on my shirt. And the dream me grabbed his school tie that was still around his neck, and pulled him in again. And then I woke up.

Sitting up, I marveled that no one had woken to my tossing and turning. I sat, thinking logically that Malfoy didn't want me. I was a game, I told myself, a game that once he won, he would get bored of. And I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. A tap on my window alerted me. I made my way cautiously to the window, and nearly screamed when I saw Malfoy hovering outside it. I was still dreaming. Definitely dreaming. I pinched myself. And didn't wake up. Okay, so I wasn't asleep. I was glad that I had slept in a tank top and leggings. No way did I want him seeing me in anything more revealing. Slipping on my bra (as I don't sleep with it on) I made my way back to the window again. And he was still there.

So maybe I wasn't hallucinating. Damn, there goes that theory. I opened the window as angrily as I could without waking the other girls. The night breeze stirred, as I glared openly at him. It was bad enough that he haunted my dreams at night, and attacked me during the day, now he had to drop in at midnight? This was getting ridiculous. And his words caught me by surprise, "care to join me?" Throwing him the filthiest look I could muster, I declined. "If you don't want rumors of us floating around more than already, I suggest you join me," he said pleasantly. He wouldn't. Oh but he would. He is evil.

Glaring at him, I climbed out onto my windowsill, and he moved the broomstick closer to allow me on. Cursing him with every evil word I knew, I climbed on, not caring if he heard my choice use of words. And he heard them, and smirked that stupid smirk. He was enjoying this very much. And, since there was barely enough room, with me sitting behind him, we were indeed quite close together. To my intense embarrassment, I put my arms around him lightly, so that I wouldn't fall. Feeling the rush of wind on my bare arms as we moved away from the castle, no doubt heading for the quidditch pitch, I gave an involuntary shiver. And, to my immense horror, he moved closer still, as if to warm me, with one hand pulling my arms around him tighter. I would have hit him, if it hadn't meant the probability of us falling off.

The broom drew to a standstill, and he began to pull me around, with the clear intention of sitting me on his lap. I resisted, pulling away sharply, and causing me to wobble precariously. Stubbornly giving in, I let him pull me onto his lap. No matter how much I hated this, I had no intention of falling. Not from this height. I crossed my arms, as much for warmth, and to show my resistance. He wasn't going to win. Not without a fight. "So what is it you want this time Malfoy? Or do you enjoy kidnapping girls in the middle of the night?" My tone was as icy as the wind that whistled past us. I mentally cursed myself for not thinking to bring a jacket.

"I thought I had made myself clear," Malfoy said, "I want you." I scoffed at this. Did he really think that I was that stupid? Did he honestly think that I would fall for it? "No you don't," came my stubborn reply, and I nearly winced as my voice came out sounding extremely childish. The look he gave me prompted me to continue. "You don't want me. Sure I'd be a nice prize, but all you are interested in is the game. All you want is the challenge. All you're interested in is saying that you have attained the unattainable, and once you get bored, you will throw me away like a used rag" hot angry tears slid down my face, much to my chagrin. Of all the times to cry. Through my tears, the look on Malfoy's face was, dare I say it, pained. This didn't make any sense. I buried my face in my arms, shivering violently as another gust of wind whirled around us.

I felt the broom's movement through the air. Looking up, I noticed that we were heading back to the castle. My tears had stopped, thankfully. Malfoy pulled up to outside my window. Quite close, but still too far for me to reach. Looking up, I saw him staring intently at me. He moved his mouth closer to mine, and I sighed, I hadn't expected to get through this without him trying to plant one. He moved his face closer steadily, eyes looking directly at me. Then he hesitated. I frowned at this. What need did he have for hesitation? It seemed that he mistook my frown for disappointment, rather than confusion, as he brought his lips to mine.

This kiss was different. It was soft. None of the forcefulness of the previous kisses, to which I referred to as "attacks". It was soft, and sweet, something I was completely unprepared for. It took barely a few seconds, before he pulled away, and dropped me onto the windowsill. I watched him fly off, my mind blissfully blank, the first time it had been since this madness had started. I turned, and stepped into the room, straight into the accusing eyes of Mhera.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she hissed quietly. I started, "He blackmailed me, I had no choice…" "Had no choice!" she whispered angrily, this confused me. Where had this anger come from? "You hate Draco, and there you are, climbing out of windows, to go flying with him at night, I was sick with worry…" Sick with worry? This I very much doubted. Sure she worried about me, but she never got this angry. "…I mean, what were you thinking, you don't even like this him, and yet there you are flirting away, while making everyone think that he is assaulting you…" Oh. My. God. She likes him. The thought came to me as a flash. But it was undeniably true. I couldn't believe it. She was accusing me of leading Malfoy on. And here she was, taking his side. And making him the victim. I started laughing.

My hysterics stopped her mad ratings. I didn't know what I found funny. The fact that her friendship was false, because it was clear now that she had only hung around me to get close to Malfoy, coupled with the fact that I had had hardly any sleep in the last week or so probably brought this on. My laughter calmed down, and I went to sit on my bed. I got in, while saying, "honestly Mhera, pull your head in." Then for the first time in ages I slept soundly.


	8. Winning the game

The next few days I heard no word from Malfoy. With my friendship with Mhera well and truly over, I had far too much time on my hands. Sure I had class, but there was nothing to do after class. I practiced my magic, but that left me tired, and I could only work at it for a few hours at a time. My Malfoy dreams returned in full and annoyingly vivid detail. And the real one was obviously not chasing me any longer. And I was disappointed. No I wasn't, I told myself. I wasn't disappointed at all, I lied.

The fourth day of my alone time, and I had all the afternoon to myself. Ok, so what to do but go and wander aimlessly in the dungeon corridors. I knew I was fooling myself when I told myself that I was here to go to the kitchens. That was indeed that direction I was heading, but not the sole reason I was here. It was common knowledge that Slytherin was located somewhere down here. I kept my mind open, sensing if anyone was nearby. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest as I sensed a familiar mind. And he was coming up behind me. I kept walking, not wanting to let him know that I knew he was there. I wanted his reaction. To know if he really had given up. Which would be both a blessing and a curse.

I walked slowly, my mind starting to yell warnings at me. He had spotted me. I was certain, my sense telling me of his surprise. "Kittel," my name. It was just my name. There is no reason that it should send shivers down my spine. Other than the way he said it. I spun around. His face lit up, probably because he had noticed that my expression had no coldness in it. "Malfoy," I returned, and immediately regretted it. His face lost that initial brightness, but only slightly. Probably because the game was still in play. He hadn't broken my spirit yet. He walked up, sending my heart into convulsions, which I hoped he couldn't hear. Ever so softly he asked, "You really think that I could possibly throw you away?" Not trusting me voice, I nodded. He contemplated this. "It seems that I have some convincing to do," he murmured half to himself.

"You know, if I find out that you are lying to me, I will see to it personally that your life becomes a living hell," I stated, some of my old bite returning in my voice. He smirked at this, before moving in to kiss me. When would this stop? My reasonable inner voice questioned, protesting immensely. I was frozen on the spot, as our lips touched, the reasonable part protesting loudly. At first, I was resistant, then I let the truthful (but annoying) conscience win. He gasped with surprise as I kissed him back, a smile playing on my lips. If he enjoyed the "attacks" then this would be a mental orgasm in comparison. Maybe a physical one, if he was lucky.

I moved my hands up his back, for the first time holding him to me. His lips were moving enthusiastically with mine, obviously taking my lack of self-control to the full advantage. But I was in complete control. He moved his mouth away from mine, to my jaw, obviously remembering my reaction last time. For once I didn't curse his talent for learning quickly. Breathing heavily, he mumbled in my ear "I could never throw you away," and then he… pulled away. Breathing heavily, I watched him, questioningly. That familiar smirk played on his lips, and I knew I had succeeded. Sure, I had given him what he wanted, but on my own terms. And from his expression, I knew that by giving in, I hadn't forfeited my chances. Not that I realized what I was doing.

I smirked back at him and said "who knew that you would be right all along," before turning on my heel and walking away.

He caught up with me the next day. I had slept easy, with my mind finally at peace. No longer torn. I should be in class. I had been missing it a lot lately. But I didn't care. And it seemed that he didn't either. I knew it was him, following me, as I wound my way through Hogwarts' maze of corridors. He was catching up, and I made no effort to stay ahead of him. When he finally caught up, he snuck up behind me, placing his hands over my eyes. "Guess who," he growled in my ear. "I dunno, don't I get a hint?" I threw back casually, playing along. The huskiness in his voice warned me of his intent, which was obvious, given past experiences. I felt him move around to face me, replacing his hands with a blindfold. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was coming.

His lips were feverishly hot against mine. We kissed each other roughly, both of us trying to gain the advantage. Neither of us wanting to give up the fight, we fought for the control. And there was no way in hell he was going to win. I slid my hands across his back, with one ending on his neck, tangled with his silky hair. And his hands apparently had a mind of their own as well. Having my eyesight impaired seemed to heighten my other senses. His scent filled my head, almost to the point of making me woozy, and my skin tingled wherever it made contact with him. The combination of the kissing, and my hands running over him forced him to break away. I smiled, thinking I had won. But no, his mouth was immediately moving along my jaw. And I thought that I wasn't playing fair. Using previously learnt moves was cheating, and this was crossing the line. But I wanted him to cross the line.

His kisses moved along my jaw line, and he breathed in my ear, "Is that a good enough hint?" he asked. If I thought his voice was husky before, it was nothing compared to now. His steady breaths on my ear made it difficult to reply, and when I did, I recognized the huskiness in my own voice, "hmm, I'm still not sure, I just can't seem to remember…" My words cut off as he attacked my earlobe. This I worked to my advantage however. He couldn't win, no matter how dirty he fought. There had to be something I could use against him. I smiled a little, as I arched my back, and his kisses grew more cautious, I was pleased to notice, and wound my leg around his waist, pulling him closer. I knew it had worked, as his movements became more erratic, and before I knew it, we moved and slammed into a wall. Of course I would be the one caught in the middle of this sandwich. Some things never change.

He pulled away abruptly, and I smiled. And the winner is… Kittel. No doubt about it. I could feel his breath on my face, as he asked, "Remember now?" This had become quite some game. I contemplated saying that I didn't know. But decided on a different tactic. "Malf-" His mouth cut me off, but he didn't remove the blindfold. This kiss was different. But familiar. It's slow sweetness reminded of something. But I couldn't place it. Then I remembered. That night. With the broom, and the cold night air. Pulling away softly, I mumbled happily the word I knew he had wanted me to say. "Draco." I said it with a smile, as his hand was removed from my eyes.


End file.
